Goawy di’yora, in the city of Ss’thar’tiss’ssun
Zornesk reclined in his high seat chair and matching desk, both crafted from fine sycamore wood that grew in surprising abundance along the river Styx. On the desk before him was strewn numerous scrolls and tomes. He sighed contently before cracking his fingers and picking up one thick volume as he started to sort through them, categorizing each. It was a weighty book this one, an age old magnum opus of a long dead kobold scholar, named Harkail Lethscale. She was an oddity among kobolds to be sure, especially if compared to the ilk born of the many kingdoms outside Stygia, a learned and famed historian in her age. Zornesk liked to think himself too, something of a novelty of his kind for Zornesk was a kobold that had achieved much in his life. Indeed, even now he sat in one of the world’s largest libraries of the modern era. A true athenaeum, Goawy di’yora, or ‘Place of Learned Ones’ in the common tongue, was indeed deserving of its title as “Mind of the Realms.” The Stygians would certainly like to think of it as a place unrivalled in the entire known world.
Ah yes, and Zornesk himself of course, for he and he alone held the title of Grand Keeper of this most impressive reservoirs of knowledge. Like all Kobolds Zornesk had been born but a slave in Stygia. Yet here unlike in many other nations, slaves were given many chances to rise above their low born status. Stygia in all was a place where ones achievements often spoke for themselves. Too be given any respect, one must first earn it. Such was a fact that was sadly lost on some of his brethren. They carried much malcontent against the Yuan-ti and Yuan-ga, who they say as oppressors. For it would seem their lot was easier, born in their great estates and seemingly given everything they could ever want. Admittedly Zornesk once thought so himself for a time. That was until he had managed to rise above the lower cast of peasantry that Zornesk found a world much more unforgiving then even the slave life he had known before. The middle and upper classes of Stygia played daily in the dangerous games of court politics. Every day one needed to justify their place in such a society where they were endlessly pushed to preform beyond high expectations. Some times Zornesk found himself missing the simple life of a low caste born. Though he would never surrender the position and power he held now. Well-earned as it was.
It was still early morning in the great mountaintop city Ss’thar’tiss’ssun, capital of Stygia and the seat of power for the priesthood of Sseth, thus Zornesk was still in the midst of organizing various documents when the telltale sound of the great stone-like doors leading into the library creaked as they were easily pushed open. Zornesk blinked and looked up from his desk down the great expense that led to the large double doors. His desk and chair positioned atop a slight pillar of stairs, and thus afforded him excellent view of anyone who entered. The mostly cloaked figure that entered wore no cowl as most of the priest of Sseth did. He did however wear light sandy brown leather robes, a suit of flexible leather armor in fact with a voluminous set of concealing black robes that hide most of the wearer’s body. His most noticeable piece of gear however was the large gourd strapped to the figures back, almost as large as its wearer. It was not until he fully took notice of the distinct cobra like head that Zornesk realized it was a Serpentesine, for indeed it was a yuan-ti, but just not any mere yuant-ti. That was for certain, for this could be none other than Shiisthel of House Hss’tafi himself! The Red Sand of Stygia.
Kobold swallowed, remembering the many tales that ran rampant of this, one of the Coiled Cabals three sages. A powerful mage no doubt and highly regarded scholar. Zornesk sat straighter, though Shiisthel was still a well 30 feet away. He went back to his scrolls, idly wondering what the master arcanist could possibly want in here at this hour. He shook his head at the thought, best not to know actually. It was not that odd for one of the sages, or any of the other members of the Cabal or even those among the priesthood to come here. After a moment Zornesk realized that the yuan-ti was slithering toward him, easily gliding across the four steps toward Zornesk’s desk with uncanny ease and grace.
“Ava'yorn Brother.” Shiisthel said in a voice both deep with a remarkably eloquent tone.
Zornesk looked up sharply from his work, a little surprised at how quickly and silently the Yuan-ti had reached him. He recovered quickly however and bowed his head respectively, as best as he could considering his sitting position and responded. “Ava'yorn, Master Shiisthel of House Hss’tafi.” Then looking up with carefully. “To what do I owe the honor?” He asked genuinely interested.
Shiisthel fixed him with a smile, or it looked more like a scowl on his visage, though his tone was friendly. “Ah, yesss.. Zornessk is it not? There iss indeed a ssslight tassk you may ad me in.” He said easily, his gritting and distinct speech running smoothly from his lips like silk
“Of course Master Shiisthel, how might I aid you?”
“I require any tomes you may possesss on the old ruinss and cryptsss of the belonging to the sarrukh within Sstygia.”
“S- sarrukh? What would even need with such scripts? Most of them date back so far it is likely many of them are out of date, considering how quickly the sands tend to bury ruins of their like…”
Shiisthel only continued to grin at the kobold, a gaze that reminded him of a predator idly watching his prey forelock unaware. It sent a shiver through his spine. “Trouble yoursself not with why, doess the library hold what I want or not?”
Zornesk bobbed his head up and down quickly in response, huffing out his chest a little as he responded. “O-of course! Goawy di’yora holds any knowledge worth penning to paper! Many of the old scrolls and books are still well preserved in the libraries storage chambers. They are very old however, so I fear I cannot say for certain how up to date some of them will be… Time corrodes all knowledge after all...”
Shiisthel only nodded knowingly. “Why of coursssse. I will sssend for them once you have gathered all the tomessss you can find, and be ssure to collect any mapssss ass well.”
With that he turned to leave, leaving a confused and blinking Zornesk in his wake. However as he reached the bottom of the steps he turned his head back to look over his shoulder. “Oh, and do keep thiss to yoursssself Zornesssk. None need know of it, or that I wasss even here. Undersstood?”
The Kobold was wise enough to know what that meant, as well as hear the underlying threat of what would happen if he did not keep silence on the subject. He swallowed again.
The lower chamber of the temple rang with the distant cries and screams of numerous voices from uncountable sources. Most belonging to those unfortunate heretics or infidels rooted out by the inquisition, the priesthoods first line of defence against those who would undermine both his name and Stygia as a whole. Salethar of House Se’Sehen seemed not to even notice the distant cries for his part. So enthralled was he in his work he had forgotten the echoes long ago. Besides which, any priest of Sseth who worked long within the Grand Temple of Ss’thar’tiss’ssun became soon accustomed to the sounds.
Besides which the task at hand required all his attention and effort. A large table was set before him, upon it sat his alchemy alembic with various other vials, potions, and vessels. Taking one vial in hand, he deliberately yet carefully poured its liquid ebony black contents into a larger beaker. He then took another glass vial and did the same, this one a dull brownish mixture that smelled of ash and clay. Stirring with a large wooden ladle until the liquids properly mixed. Satisfied he poured the beaker into a larger glass vessel that sat atop an iron like cage, a small flame trapped within it. Soon enough it began bubbling, at which point Salethar sprinkled the dust of dried bones that once belonged to a carrion horror.
The smallest spark suddenly came alight before the mixture turned a dark amethyst purple. Salethar nodded, apparently pleased with how the compounds had arranged themselves. He straightened himself on his coils, and cracked the joints of his fingers. These experiments were taking longer than anticipated. However, Sseth willing, it would be ready for testing soon enough….
Then at last Salethar would be one step closer to discovering the energies of life itself. It would create possibilities for numerous other breakthroughs. Not just in Alchemy, but the science of magic as well. Yet before he could proceed he would need a worthy candidate for testing. At the very least there were no shortage of those…
